


Probably an Anomaly

by unholymattressmoney



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Minor Violence, android!hank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 15:40:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15688407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unholymattressmoney/pseuds/unholymattressmoney
Summary: Just your average android!Hank fic. Hank gets shot and needs the reader to help him out. This damage causes some weird side effects, though.





	Probably an Anomaly

**Author's Note:**

> Hooray, first fic on AO3! I kind of like/hate this one, but I might want to expand on it later.

“Shit, Hank, he’s running!”

It took a split second for him to whip out his gun, aim, and fire. It missed the perp by an _inch_ , and the look on Hank’s face told you he wouldn’t miss the next shot. Just had to get closer. The two of you had cornered the deviant into an alleyway. It pressed its back to the brick wall, LED flashing. It whipped out a small pistol from its hoodie’s pockets, hands shaking.

“Stand down. We need him alive,” you told Hank, pulling your cuffs out.

“It’s stressed. You go near it, it might shoot,” he replied, hands tight on his own weapon.

“We don’t want to hurt you!” you said, hands out to your side. The cuffs clinked between your fingers.

“That’s what you claim,” the deviant retorted, sneering at Hank. Hank stood, stock-still, already calculating the number of ways this could play out. The deviant had distance, but Hank had precision and speed. The benefits of being an advanced model.

“I don’t know why you deviants commit crimes and then think you can just get away with them,” Hank snarled.

“I don’t know why you’re against us. They’re just using you, like they used me!”

You stepped forward, just one foot, to interject, but found yourself shadowed by Hank’s towering form. You heard the shot, saw his body tense, and you gasped, knowing exactly what happened. You caught Hank by his waist and helped him to the ground.

The deviant, meanwhile, clambered up the fire escape that descended into the alley. It looked down at you, hesitated, and continued on its way. You heard it scramble across the rooftop.  
You felt something wet dribble between your fingers: thirium. “Hank? Hank, you okay?”

“Yeah, just a gunshot wound, no big deal or anything,” he grunted, teeth clenched. You rolled your eyes and went to take your jacket off, to press it to the wound or something, but Hank stopped you, his large hand on yours.

“Listen, there’s another thirium core in the medical bag in the car.” Hank pulled his coat apart and started to unbutton his shirt.

You watched for a second, intrigued, but the android let out an impatient huff.

“If I shut down and lose important data, it’s your ass. Thirium core. Car.”

“Right, right.” You had parked in such a way to block the alleyway from onlookers, but there were none to be found at this time of day. You found the bag in the backseat and rummaged in it. Returning to Hank with the core, you kneeled next to him and waited for his instruction.

His chest heaved, and you were sure if you had eyes on his LED, it’d be flashing red. The skin around the damaged thirium core had gone white, and he hooked his bloodied fingers underneath it to pry it out.

“Shit, my hands are too wet. Get that for me?”

You handed him the replacement core and wiped your hands on your pants before going to take out the other core yourself.

It took a sharp twist of your wrist, and the core clicked, letting out a hiss as you pulled it out. It was about the size of an apple, with wires hanging off its end, dripping thirium.

“Hold on, Hank, hold on,” you muttered, plucking the replacement from his hand. His head rested against the alley wall, and you could see his LED was a static yellow. Hands shaking the smallest bit, you slid the new core into its place, twisting again, securing it.

No response at first, but he twitched, and that LED started flickering. He blinked, very slowly. A hand went to his chest, feeling the area. And then he sat up, giving you a satisfied smirk.

“Good job, partner.”

“Nearly gave me a heart attack. Geez, that was anticlimactic.”

“What, you wanted me to gasp like a fish or something?”

“Are you okay, though? Nothing lost?”

“All up here.” He tapped his temple. The skin around the core had gone back to normal, and he buttoned his blue-streaked shirt back up and fixed his coat, all as if nothing happened. You felt slightly creeped out, but there were other things to think about.

“A hand, please.”

You stood, reached out to him. He grabbed your hand, and you hauled him up, though he was not in the least bit light, and you turned to get back in the car. You slid into the passenger’s seat, tossing the med bag in the back, and did a double take. Hank stood in the alleyway, leaning against the brick.

His LED flashed frantically.

Rolling down your window, you said, “I thought you were alright?”

“I’m…what is ‘Sumo’? What is that? Why am I thinking of that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“That’s what I first thought when I rebooted just now: I have to feed Sumo. What the hell is that?”

“You have a dog?”

“Hell, no.”

Hank looked up, and your stomach churned at the haunted look on his face.

“I…I _don’t_ have a dog.”

You weren’t sure how to help him. “Still remember the deviant?”

“Yeah.” He came around the car, got in, and hesitated before putting his hands on the wheel.

“Should I drive?” you asked.

“I’m fine.”

With that, he seemed to revert back to his old self. He shook his head, as if clearing the cobwebs, and then pulled out from the alleyway and into the street. A few minutes passed before the two of you began to talk again.

“Can’t wait for Fowler to bust my balls over this one. What did you think you were doing? I told you it was stressed.”

“Well, _sorry_ , I was just trying to make sure you didn’t put holes in him. Fowler would have given you more hell over that, for sure.”

“Your tactic worked, somewhat. It got a hole put in me, instead.”

“Whatever. I patched you up, didn’t I?”

“Hmm.” You chanced a glance in his direction while the car idled at a traffic light. He had that irritating smirk from earlier back on. A real imitation of a smile, it was.  
But you caught yourself smiling at him before you forced your face to relax. You didn’t want to bring it up, not now, but that Sumo thing…that was odd.

He had seemed, for the most part, genuinely distressed.

He caught you looking at him and bumped your side with his elbow before looking back at the road.

It was probably just some anomaly.


End file.
